In Vino Veritas
by peski0piksi
Summary: "In Wine, Truth." We've seen Drunk Pam (banned from Chili's), and we've seen Drunk Jim (drunk driver/biker), but what happens when we put Drunk Pam and Drunk Jim together? Set during Season Three.
1. Chapter 1

Hello out there! Does anybody still read Office fic? It's been years for me, but I recently started an Office binge on Netflix and got hooked on the Jam story all over again. I remembered this old plot bunny I had never put down on paper when I first thought of it years ago, and decided to go ahead and write it for old time's sake. It was fun to revisit this world!

The whole thing is written, so feel free to follow without "incomplete" fears. Will probably update one chapter per day. (Six chapters total.) Hope you enjoy, and please review! (Especially if you're from the "old crowd," would love to hear from any of you!)

* * *

Set during Season Three, after _Business School_ , before _Cocktails_.

* * *

Jim didn't know why it had never occurred to him that he might run into Pam at Poor Richard's. After all, it was one of the few decent watering holes in Scranton, and a favorite haunt of all the Dunder Mifflinites. But when his friends had suggested going out, he already had a few beers in him and had agreed readily enough.

Besides, it didn't matter. Pam was with Roy now, and Jim was with Karen. So who cared if they ran into each other outside the office now and then? It wasn't like he couldn't handle it . They saw each other every single day at work, and it was fine. They were friends. They would always be friends.

Or so he had been told.

But still, when he walked into the dimly lit, crowded room and spotted her over at a corner table with three people he didn't recognize, he wasn't quite sure how to act. He had to go say hi, didn't he? It would be totally weird if he pretended not to notice her.

At least Roy wasn't there. And at least Karen wasn't there, either.

When Karen had told Jim she going to spend a weekend in New York City with her girlfriends, he was ashamed to admit to himself how relieved he was. An entire weekend free to himself, free to just _be_ himself, sounded wonderful. It would be a much-needed escape from the tension between them that had existed ever since he had finally told Karen the whole truth about his history with Pam. And maybe after a few days apart things would be better-sort of a reset on their relationship, so to speak.

He needed that to happen. He still needed Karen if he was ever going to have any hope of getting past Pam. He was still kicking himself for allowing those feelings of hope to enter. Blame it on interfering documentary producers, the romantic wedding atmosphere, the irresistible pull of Pam's eyes, but for just an hour or two, he had let his carefully maintained guard down. Had thought that maybe...just maybe…

But no. Once again he had been reminded of how capable he was of completely misinterpreting Pam's signals. She had gone home with Roy that night, and Jim had refocused his energy back on Karen. If he allowed himself to wallow in misery and disappointment, it wasn't until later that night, away from the cameras and the watchful eyes of his girlfriend.

It wasn't as though he didn't like Karen. She was great! Beautiful, smart, and witty...she was the whole package. He knew they could make it work if they just tried hard enough, and if he could just get past everything with Pam. Like Karen kept saying...it just needed time.

But for now a weekend alone was just what he needed. He had decided he would do nothing but veg on the couch and watch movies, maybe play a few video games. Eat lots of the junk food that Karen had declared verboten. It would be heaven.

Those exciting plans had been changed slightly late on Friday afternoon, when Jim had received a call from Allan, an old friend from high school who had escaped to New York City years ago. He was back in town visiting his parents for the weekend, and did Jim want to come over, have a few beers, and catch up on old times? Jim had agreed, and after he arrived he and Allan and Allan's older brother Steve sat out on the back patio drinking and chatting until Steve declared that he was bored, and that they should go out and find some girls to hit on.

Allan had a girlfriend back in New York, and Jim had Karen, but they agreed they wouldn't mind a change of scenery. So now Jim found himself standing at the entrance to Poor Richard's, Steve and Allan standing behind him, debating whether or not to go speak to Pam.

He would, he decided. Of course he would.

"Hey, guys," he said over his shoulders. "I see someone I know. Give me a minute, all right?"

"We'll come with you," Allan said. "No tables open yet, anyway."

So Jim headed over through the crowd to the corner where Pam was laughing with her friends (who were they, anyway?) with his own two accomplices in tow, hoping it wouldn't be too awkward. He couldn't help noticing how pretty she looked. Not that she wasn't always beautiful (heart-wrenchingly so, in fact), but tonight there seemed to be a glow about her. Her smile seemed to light up the entire room. Jim couldn't stop his own smile from breaking out when he saw it.

She looked up and saw him coming, and if possible, her grin grew even wider. She jumped up from her chair to greet him with a large hug as he reached her table.

"Jim!" she yelled over the loud music blaring from the jukebox. "It's so good to see you!"

Jim laughed, suddenly remembering a night from long ago. A night of Dundies and "second drinks" and a friendly kiss that had left him completely unraveled. Pam was a fun drunk, and she had obviously already had a few. This wasn't going to be bad at all.

"Hi Pam," he said, gently disengaging himself from her arms. "Long time no see!"

"Yeah, it's been a whole, what? Five hours?" Pam giggled.

"Something like that," he agreed with a smile.

"That's too long!" Pam cried.

Before Jim could answer that thrilling but confusing response, Steve interrupted from behind him.

"Hey, Halpert! Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, yeah...sorry! Pam, this is Allan and Steve Albright. I went to highschool with Allan, so we're just catching up on old times tonight. Allan, Steve, this is Pam Beesly. Pam and I work together."

Thankfully, Allan had been gone too long to have any inkling of how completely inadequate that introduction truly was.

"Pleased to meet you!" he said, shaking hands with Pam. "Any friend of Jim's!"

And Steve, who could always be counted on to be just slightly rude, chimed in, "Pam, howya doin'? How about introducing us to your friends?"

For the first time Jim took a careful look at Pam's companions and saw that there were two girls and one guy, and that one of the girls was extremely pretty. Nothing compared to Pam, of course, but he knew now why Steve had asked for the introduction, and what his likely next move would be. At this point Jim wasn't sure if he wanted to try to head him off or not.

"Sure!" Pam answered, and turned back to the table. "These are my friends from art school. Troy, Billie, and Christi, this is Jim, Allan...and, I'm sorry…" her face turned adorably pink as she turned to Steve, at a loss for his name.

Steve, of course, wasn't fazed.

"Steve Albright, at your service," he said, shaking hands with each of them in turn. He saved the pretty one, Christi, for last, holding on to her hand for a beat too long. Jim rolled his eyes. But Steve wasn't done.

"Do you folks mind if we join you? Place is pretty packed tonight and we haven't been able to find a table."

"Absolutely, please sit down!" Christi said, practically batting her eyes at Steve. Steve wasted no time, quickly grabbing the empty seat next to her.

Jim was still unsure. He turned to Pam.

"Sorry about that," he told her, low. "I'm sure we can find another place if you'd rather just be with your friends..."

"Don't be silly!" Pam said. "We'd love for you to join us. The more the merrier, right?" she asked, turning to her other friends for confirmation.

Troy and Billie smiled and nodded their heads in agreement. With that, Allan took the chair next to his brother, leaving Jim to take the last seat available next to Pam. His heart pounded in his chest.

This is not what he had planned for the evening, at all. Somehow, though, he couldn't bring himself to regret the string of coincidences that had brought him here.

Steve started signalling for the waitress.

"Anybody here ever played the Name Game?" he asked.

* * *

Pam hoped her face wasn't too pink as she only partially listened to Jim's friend placing an order with their waitress. She had already been working on her second margarita, and feeling light as a feather, when she had seen Jim walking towards her. Everything after that point had gone so quickly, and now she found herself sitting next to him. The table was small and the chairs were crowded around it, and anytime somebody spoke you had to lean in close to be able to hear over the music and the din of the other patrons. Jim's knee bumped against hers beneath the table, driving her nearly to distraction.

She had been slightly, secretly relieved when Roy had first turned down her invitation to join her here tonight to finally meet her art school friends, (he had pled previous plans to go to Darryl's for a poker game), but that was nothing to the ecstasy of relief she felt now. If Roy was here, she knew there was no way Jim would have agreed to join their two little groups together. As it was, though, she was free to bask in the joy of Jim's company to her heart's content.

She tried to focus on what Steve was saying as the server set down a huge round of shots-enough for two each-in the middle of the table.

"Okay," Steve half-yelled so they all could hear them. "This is an easy game, and everybody has to play, _Jim_."

Pam glanced at Jim to see how he was going to take this little jab, but he just smiled and rolled his eyes. She smiled too, glad to see that he seemed to be in a good mood and willing to play along.

 _Maybe it's because Karen isn't here_ , she thought, and then sharply reprimanded herself. What went on between Jim and Karen was none of her business. Karen was a lovely person, and besides, Pam had Roy.

 _Wonder where she is, though._

Maybe after a couple of shots she'd work up the nerve to ask.

Steve was still talking.

"...that starts with the same letter as the last name of the previous person. So, like...if I say 'Bill Cosby,' then the person sitting to my left, (in this case the lovely Christi), could say 'Clint Eastwood', and then Billie could say 'Emily Blunt' and so on and so forth. But you have to be quick. If you can't think up a name, if you hesitate, you have to take a shot."

"No way, man!" said Jim. "We're all going to die of alcohol poisoning. A whole shot each time we screw up? Nobody can think that fast, especially drunk!"

"Okay, okay. We'll just finish off this round first to get us warmed up, then switch to regular drinks, okay? Two shot limit each."

"Let's do it!" chimed in Christi, and smiled at Steve. Pam caught the eye of Billie, her closest friend from the art class they all attended at the local community center, and they exchanged amused grins. Christi had just broken up with her boyfriend a couple of weeks ago, and had been complaining all day about needing a rebound. It looked like she had found her victim in Steve.

He was cute enough, Pam supposed, but not really her type. Too short. And stocky as opposed to lanky. But anyway…

The game started, and Pam's friend Troy was the first to not be able to come up with a name. They all cheered as he shrugged and downed the shot good-naturedly. Then they started up again-they made it all the way back around the table and then Jim was caught when he couldn't come up with a response to Pam's answer of 'Will Ferrell.' Pam noticed that he seemed to hesitate, but then he took up the small glass and threw its contents back. They all cheered again.

The night was off to a great start.


	2. Chapter 2

Thirty minutes later, the game finally ended when Pam, who couldn't think of any celebrity names, let alone one that started with "F," simply blurted out a loud "That's what she said!" on her turn. The others looked confused, but Jim burst out laughing and couldn't seem to stop. This led to a lengthy, hilarity-filled explanation to the rest of the group about Michael Scott and his bizarre influence on the lives of Jim and Pam.

The game was over, but the damage was done. Pam's head was spinning in a very pleasant way, and she noticed that she no longer could distinguish which song exactly was playing from the jukebox...she could only feel the beat in her chest, and the rest was just a buzzing in her ears. She felt very happy, though.

"It's weird, isn't it?" she asked Jim, leaning in so he could hear her.

"What's weird?" he smiled back.

"Being here without the others. The people we work with, I mean. This whole other group...they have no idea."

"Yep, just you and me, Beesly! Nobody else understands our pain."

The two of them grinned and looked at the others, who had paired off into their own little worlds: Steve with Christi, Troy with Billie, and Allan, who excused himself to the parking lot so he could call his girlfriend.

"We should do another shot," Jim said, signaling to the waitress.

Pam giggled.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Halpert?"

Only the alcohol could have given her the courage to ask such a daring question.

"Maybe. Or maybe you're trying to get _me_ drunk, did you ever think of that?"

"What?" she laughed "That makes no sense. You're the one ordering more alcohol."

"Don't confuse me with facts, Pam," Jim said before he turned to the server to order two more shots. Pam let out another peal of laughter.

This felt so good. _She_ felt so good. Laughing and joking around with Jim was the best feeling in the world. She had missed it, missed _him_ , so much.

They did another shot, and Pam finally worked up the nerve to ask.

"Where's Karen tonight?"

Jim shrugged.

"New York City. Girlfriends. Whole weekend."

"Ah, I see."

"Where's Roy?"

Pam shrugged in turn.

"Beer. Poker. Don't know. Don't care."

Jim just grinned.

"So I've got you all to myself tonight, then?"

"Yes, and I've got you."

Pam wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or her own boldness that was making her cheeks burn so hot, but she knew she needed a distraction from the look in Jim's eyes.

"Let's do another shot!" she exclaimed.

* * *

The rest of the night became nothing but a blur of disconnected moments.

A game of darts.

More alcohol.

Several trips to the ladies' room, where at least two girls were crying, although Pam couldn't remember later if it was two girls together or two separate girls on two separate trips.

Billie trying to convince Pam to leave with her, and Pam refusing. She was having way too much fun, and she wanted to stay with Jim. Jim promising to see her home safely.

Something about Billie and her car keys.

Still more alcohol.

Talk and laughter and touching. Somehow her hand was always on Jim's leg, or his arm was around her seat back. They leaned in close to speak to each other, his breath was warm in her ear.

At some point, the server let them know it was last call, and Jim and Pam realized they were the only two left from their group. That made them laugh. Everything that night was making them laugh.

Then Jim was leading her out into the cool air and the quiet of the parking lot, his arm around her shoulders. They climbed into the back of a taxi, and Pam couldn't remember her address. More laughter.

"So you'll just come to my place, then," Jim said.

"Okay," Pam agreed.

And then his mouth was on hers, and her hands were in his hair. She kissed him back fervently, not knowing nor caring if any of this was real or how long it would last. It was hot and wet and desperate. They clung to each other the whole way home.

Later, she would have only vague memories of the stumble out of the cab and the short, quick walk to Jim's apartment. The moment the door closed behind them she was back in his arms again, and they left a trail of clothes along the floor as they fumbled their way into his bedroom, not bothering with the lights.

Deliciously cool sheets. Skin on skin. Tongues and warmth and friction and happiness and _Jim_ and oh!

And then darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Since Chapter Two was so short I decided to go ahead and post Chapter Three as well...

* * *

The sound of a slamming door woke Jim from his stupor.

He lifted his head, and immediately groaned as his head spun. He was still at least partially drunk, and completely disoriented. He peered around in the darkness, and tried to get his bearings.

At least he seemed to be in his own bed, his own room. He realized he was completely naked, and he looked beside him to see a small indentation in the bed where someone had obviously been lying only moments before.

Pam.

 _Oh, my god._

Everything came back in a rush. The bar, a haze of inebriation like he hadn't felt since his college days, and _her_. So warm and giggly and funny, so affectionate and talkative, and in the end so completely irresistible.

What had they _done_? And where was she now?

A noise from the bathroom drew his attention, and he looked to see light shining out from under the door. He swung his legs around and stood up, searching for his boxers among all the clothes, both his and hers, strung across the carpet. He finally located them and pulled them on as he made his way over to the closed bathroom door.

"Pam?" he asked, tentatively.

No response from the other side other than the sound of retching.

"Pam!"

He tried the knob and found the door unlocked. The door swung open to reveal Pam, completely naked, kneeling in front of the toilet bowl.

"No, Jim...please…don't..."

She tried to cover herself with her hands, with little effect as she was immediately taken over by nausea again.

Jim turned and ran to the living room where he grabbed an afghan off the couch. He returned quickly to Pam, putting the blanket over her shoulders and pulling her hair back away from her face.

Pam clutched the blanket to her and tried to push him away.

"Please, no...Jim...I don't want you to see…"

Her voice broke off as another wave overcame her, and she bent to to the toilet again.

"Shh...it's okay, Pam," Jim said. "I can handle a little vomit. Just get it all out."

He rubbed her back and made soothing noises as she retched, feeling utterly helpless. Finally she was done, and then she promptly burst into tears.

He took her in his arms, and together the two of them fell back to sit on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, leaning up against the wall. Jim tucked her head against his shoulder as she sobbed, her tears wet against his skin. He was silent. He didn't know what to say, what would help her feel better. Being half-drunk himself, with a raging headache well on its way, didn't help.

Why exactly was she crying so hard? Surely it wasn't just the humiliation of letting him see her so vulnerable and sick...surely she knew better than to think something like that would ever matter to him. Probably it was regret and shame for what they had done.

"Jim, what are we going to do?"

Her plaintive cry confirmed all of his fears. She regretted this. Of course she did. She still didn't want him, didn't want any of this. What had happened that night between them was the alcohol, and nothing more.

"I don't know," he said, utterly dejected.

"I'm not this person, Jim. I don't do things like this! I don't get drunk and lose all control...I don't _cheat_!"

"I know that, Pam," he tried to reassure her. "I know who you are. This isn't exactly normal for me, either."

"But I couldn't help it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "I've missed you so much…"

Jim's heart rebounded, but still he was cautious. He pulled her tighter to his side.

"I know, Pam. I've missed you, too."

"But Karen...and Roy...I don't...I don't know what to do!" she broke out into fresh sobs.

He shushed her and tried to figure out the right words to say. He was so afraid of coming out with the wrong thing, of scaring her away and making things worse than they already were. He felt like such a tool. For what he had done to Karen. For what he _had been_ doing to Karen all along. For letting himself go last night and as a result not taking proper care of Pam, for destroying the delicate balance that had existed between them.

One thing was for sure, though, he realized...this was not the right place nor time to be having this discussion. He needed to be be completely sober, and he needed to know that she was, too.

"I know things look bad right now..." he started hesitantly. "But let's not do anything rash. Let's go back to bed, sleep the rest of this off, and then we can talk about it in the morning when we're both feeling better. Okay?"

She sniffed.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go? I could call for a taxi…" she offered in a small voice.

"God, no!" Jim said, horrified at the thought. "Please, no, Pam. Please stay."

He felt her nod against his chest.

"Okay," she said.

"And please, Pam promise me..." he said.

"What?"

"Please...can we not...promise me that we're not going to just sweep this under the rug like we do with everything else. I can't go back to that, Pam. I can't go back to pretending like everything's okay and that nothing ever happened between us."

"Okay," she said, but he sensed hesitancy in her voice. He figured that answer would have to suffice for now, though.

"Okay, then," he said. He gave her shoulder one last squeeze and then stood up. He held out his hand to her and helped her to her feet as well.

"I have a couple of spare toothbrushes here," he said, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a thankfully unopened package. "Toothpaste is here. Wash rags here. And I'll go get you something to wear while you're doing that."

"Thanks, Jim," she said sheepishly.

He just smiled at her and left her to her privacy, thinking to himself how grateful he was that Karen almost always insisted on staying at her own place when they spent the night together. He knew he didn't need to worry about Pam accidentally coming across Karen's makeup or hairbrush or anything…

He went to his dresser and pulled out a clean pair of boxers and two t-shirts. He pulled one of the shirts over his own head, then searched the floor for Pam's things. Trying not to think too much about it, he located her (pink! lacy!) panties and discreetly hid them between his folded t-shirt and boxers before passing it all through the door to her.

By the time she emerged, he was waiting for her with a large glass of ice water and four extra-strength tylenol.

"Trust me," he said. "It'll help. I've already taken mine."

He watched as she downed the pills and all of the water, marveling at the sight of her standing there in his old, faded Scranton High t-shirt, which swallowed her petite figure. The neckline fell down over one of her shoulders, and it was all Jim could do to resist seizing her and burying his face in her swan-like neck.

Memories of only hours before came rushing back. She had been so beautiful, so perfect. Everything he had ever thought she would be, everything he had ever wanted. He had lost himself completely in her. Would he ever get a chance to hold her, to love her, like that again?

"Thanks," she said, handing the glass back to him and in the process breaking him out of his stupor.

"I'll get you a refill, just in case," he said, and headed back to the kitchen. He walked to the sink and started filling her glass, staring out at the blackness outside the window.

"Snap out of it, Halpert," he muttered to himself.

While he knew exactly what, and exactly _who_ , he wanted, he still basically had no idea where Pam stood. At least at this point he could be pretty sure she was attracted to him. There were definitely some feelings there, or all of this never would have happened. But whether those feelings were stronger than what she felt for Roy, or whether she would be brave enough to admit it if they were, remained to be seen.

He needed to prepare himself for rejection.

Just the thought of it made his stomach drop and his throat go dry. Could he live through that again? He really wasn't sure.

When he came back to the bedroom he found Pam already underneath the covers. He carefully put the water glass on the bedside table next to her, then he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Um, Pam?"

She looked up at him quizzically

"Do you mind if I sleep in here, too? It's just...the couch is just a little bit too short for me and there's no way I'm letting you sleep out there…"

"Oh! No, of course, that's fine. I mean, I already assumed…"

She broke off, embarrassed.

"Thanks," Jim said, relieved. He went into the bathroom, quickly brushed his own teeth and used a fresh rag on his face and neck. Then he flipped off the bathroom light, plunging them back into almost complete darkness. The clock on his dresser told him it was nearing five in the morning.

He carefully made his way back around to the other side of the bed and climbed in, careful not to touch her.

"Good night, Jim," came her whisper from what seemed a mile away.

"Good night."

They fell into silence.

"Pam?"

"Yes?"

"Please promise me you'll still be here when I wake up tomorrow."

A pause.

"I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

When Pam first stirred the next morning, she could feel the glare of the late-morning sun trying to break through her eyelids. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, not wanting to wake and face this day. She wanted just five more minutes...she was so warm and comfortable where she was. Where she was…

Pam froze.

Where she was was in Jim's bedroom. In Jim's bed. In Jim's arms. They were wrapped firmly around her, and her head lay comfortably on his chest, just below his chin. It seemed that in their sleep, as in their drunkenness, they were inevitably, inexorably drawn together.

Pam dared not move. She barely dared to even breathe. She could tell from the slow, even rise and fall of his chest that Jim was still sleeping, and she was sure that as soon as he woke up, they would have to separate. He hadn't even wanted to sleep in here with her, she reminded herself-he simply had had no other choice. When he woke, he would remember that he had a beautiful, glamorous girlfriend now and that he didn't love Pam anymore. She would see in his eyes that to him this had all been one enormous mistake.

She wasn't sure she could bear it.

Part of her, a large part, wanted to run away. To slip out of his arms, grab her things, and sneak out of the apartment before he could wake and break her heart again. But then she remembered his request from the night before. He had made her promise not to do that...to still be there when he woke so they could talk and figure everything out. The idea of it terrified her, but she had promised.

Besides...if she left now, she knew she would never experience the joy of being in his arms again. She wanted to stay and savor it now while she still could.

He smelled so good: a combination of detergent, smoke from the bar, and something else that was indefinably Jim. As always was the case with her, smells were strongly linked to her memories, and as she breathed him in mental images from the night before came rushing back.

Their journey to his bed had been rushed and frantic, but once there Jim had slowed down, kissing every inch of her he could reach. He had been worshipful, gentile but so passionate, and he had made her experience sensations like she had never felt before. Just the thought of it now, the memory of his hands and his mouth on her, made her breath quicken.

She had never known it could be like that. And that had been a completely drunk Jim...what would he be capable of while sober? She shuddered. She knew now, without a doubt, that she would never again settle for Roy, with his fumbling and inattention and sloppiness. No, from now on, it was Jim or nothing for her.

It was probably going to be nothing, though, wasn't it? There was no way she could compete with Karen. Karen was beautiful and ambitious and sophisticated...whereas, she, Pam, was just a small-town bumpkin with frizzy hair. True, Jim had loved her once, and that was probably what had fueled his actions last night, but he had Karen now. He knew what else was available to him and there was no way he was going to settle for Pam, was there?

The urge to flee was strong. What was the point in staying just to be rejected? Last night hadn't changed anything for him, she was sure, although she knew her own world would never be the same.

Suddenly Jim shifted slightly, and Pam knew he was awake. It was too late to run, even if she had really wanted to. She froze, waiting for him to realize what was going on and push her away. He would be gentle and kind about it, she knew, but he _would_ push her away.

 _Be brave_ , she told herself.

It had become her mantra lately, ever since the art show that almost nobody had shown up to. She had been devastated after hearing what Oscar and his boyfriend Gil had had to say about her and her art, but later, after having some time to absorb and think about it, she had decided they were right. If she had had a little more courage and honesty to begin with, she might never have lost Jim. She had determined that from that point on, she would have courage, would stand up for herself and tell people what she really wanted. It was a new resolution, and so far she hadn't always been able to follow through, but she was getting there. Right now, it was the only thing holding her in place.

She waited, bracing herself for Jim to move, to start to extract himself from her arms.

But he didn't.

His hand came up to rest over her own on his chest, and with his other arm, he hugged her even closer to him. Then she felt the softest pressure on her forehead, right at her hairline. His lips.

She drew in a sharp breath.

Maybe, in his half-awake state, he thought she was Karen?

"Pam? Are you awake?" His voice was raspy with sleep, barely more than a whisper.

He knew it was her.

"Yes," was all she could say.

There was a pause as they both absorbed their situation, as they both waited for the other. Neither of them moved. Pam could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Then,

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

The lack of his outright rejection, those few small gestures of affection, gave her the extra burst of courage she needed.

"I was thinking..." she answered, then hesitated.

 _Be brave, Pam!_

"I was thinking of how much I love waking up in your arms like this."

It wasn't everything. It wasn't even much. But it was all she could manage for the moment.

She waited for his response. He gripped her hand, and she felt him draw in a breath, but his answer never came because just at that moment, a loud RAP RAP RAP! came at Jim's front door.

"Jim, are you in there?"

It was Karen.


	5. Chapter 5

"Shit!" Jim half-whispered, half-shouted, sitting bolt upright. Pam went with him, overcome with panic. She flew out of the bed and started frantically snatching up her clothes from the floor of the bedroom.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Jim continued as he started to help her.

"I thought you said she was gone for the whole weekend!" Pam hissed at Jim.

"She was! I don't know what the hell she's doing here! Shit!"

RAP RAP RAP!

They both froze, staring at each other across the room.

"One sec!" Jim shouted towards the front door.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to Pam, his eyes distraught. "But she has a key and if I don't let her in she may just walk in on her own. Can you...will you...hide somewhere, or…"

Pam was all too happy to oblige. The last person on Earth she wanted to confront right now was Karen Filipelli.

"The bathroom…" she said and turned, but Jim grabbed her from behind.

"No! She might need to use it. The closet, quick!" he took her shoulders and gently redirected her towards the third door in the room.

Pam ran and flung herself into the small walk-in closet, turning to see Jim right behind her. He handed her her purse and one shoe, and apologized again.

"I'm so, so sorry. I'll get rid of her as fast as I can, okay?"

Pam just nodded, her eyes wide. Jim quickly shut the door, leaving in her the darkness.

This had turned into a total nightmare. It was like a bad romcom, only instead of the plucky heroine she had always imagined she would be, she was the evil "other woman" hiding in the other room. When had this become her life?

"Hey, what are you doing here?" came Jim's voice from the other room. Pam suddenly realized that since Jim's apartment was barely more than a studio, the odds were high that she was going to be able to hear their entire conversation. She groaned to herself.

"I thought you were in New York?" Jim continued.

There was a pause, and Pam could all too vividly imagine Karen reaching up for a kiss. She swallowed hard.

"I came home early," Karen said. "The whole thing was a disaster. Apparently Susie has been sleeping with Rachel's ex, and it all came out last night at the bar. They had a huge fight, and we all got dragged into it. Total nightmare. Anyway, on top of all of that, you weren't answering any of my texts, and I got worried. So this morning I just decided I would drive back early and surprise you. So, surprise!"

Pam gripped her purse tighter and wondered if Roy had been trying to reach her. It had never even dawned on her to check until this moment, but there was no way she was going to root through her purse for her phone now. What if she made a noise? Roy would just have to wait a bit longer.

God knew he had kept _her_ waiting long enough, she reflected wryly.

She missed Jim's answer, but then Karen was speaking again. Her voice was a little fainter, so Pam guessed she had moved towards the kitchen.

"So what were you up to last night that you couldn't answer my calls?" she asked. Pam tensed.

"Um, sorry about that," Jim said. "I went out, actually...with an old friend from high school. Don't think I've ever mentioned him to you, Allan Albright? Well, anyway...we went to Poor Richard's and I guess I had a bit too much to drink. I just woke up a few minutes ago. I didn't even realize you'd been trying to reach me, sorry."

"So I leave town and _then_ you decide you'd rather go out than spend the night on the couch watching sports? What's up with that, Halpert?"

"Um…"

"I'm just teasing. I'm glad you had fun. Sounds like you had a better night than I did. I noticed your car wasn't in the parking lot, I guess that's why. Need me to take you to go pick it up?"

"Um…"

"'Um,' what? What is with you, Jim?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You seem upset or something. Is everything okay?"

There was a long pause.

"No," Jim finally said. "No, actually...I need to talk to you, Karen."

"Oh, no. Not again, Jim."

' _Not again?' What does that mean?_

"Yes, again. Karen, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry...but I just can't do this anymore."

"Because of Pam?"

The sound of her own name startled her, and for a split second Pam panicked, thinking Karen somehow knew she was there hiding in the closet after a night of illicit philandering with Jim. But that was ridiculous...and Jim was speaking again...

"Yes, because of Pam. I can't help it, I still love her. It's not fair to you."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. When they finally did, Pam's legs went limp and she sank down to the floor of the closet, her clothes and her purse still wrapped in her arms. Had he really just said that? He still loved her? Was it really possible?

 _I still love her...I still love her...I still love her..._

His voice echoed in her head, and Pam thought her heart was about to explode out of her chest...

"We've been over this," Karen was saying impatiently. "I told you, it's _my_ choice…"

"No, not this time. I'm making the call, Karen. If you wait for me to be over Pam, you're going to be waiting forever. I'm not okay with that."

"But she doesn't feel that way about you! You told me! And she's with Roy now...you're never going to be with her, Jim!"

"All that may be true," Jim started.

( _It's not! It's not true!_ )

"But it doesn't change anything. I love her, and that's all there is to it."

Silence. Pam felt a tear slip down her cheek, and as she wiped it away she wondered if Jim would ever realize he had made two girls cry at the same time for two very different reasons.

"Can we please just talk about this?"

The pain in Karen's voice made Pam flinch. She knew what it felt like to lose Jim, and she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy, much less a nice person like Karen. But that didn't mean she wasn't, at the same time, overjoyed by Jim's actions and words.

"No, I'm sorry," said Jim. "Talking isn't going to change my mind."

Another pause.

"You're a real bastard, you know that?"

Karen's words struck a hot blaze of anger in Pam's chest. Jim didn't deserve that…!

But apparently Jim felt otherwise.

"Yeah, I know," he said quietly. "I don't blame you if you hate me, Karen. I haven't treated you right, I know that. You deserve better. You'll find better, I promise."

"You're damn right I will. And I _do_ hate you, Jim. I _do_! Why couldn't you have told me all of this back in Stamford? Why did you drag me here to this shitty little town when all along you knew you were in love with another woman? You _used_ me, Jim!"

"I'm sorry," was all he said, and Pam's heart went out to him.

"Fuck you, Jim."

Pam heard the front door open and then slam closed. And then there was nothing but silence in the apartment. Pam waited, but the silence continued. Finally she stood and opened the door, peeking out into the still empty bedroom. She came out slowly, dumped her things on the messy bed, and moved to the doorway, where she saw Jim standing in the middle of the living room, his head bowed.

"Are you okay?" she asked, softly.

Jim looked up quickly, as if startled to see her there.

"You heard all of that?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"Oh, god. I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry, Jim. You don't owe me any apologies."

"But…"

"It's my fault, Jim. If I hadn't been such a coward back then, you never would have gone to Stamford in the first place. Never would have even met Karen. It's _my_ fault. Not yours."

"Pam, that's ridiculous…"

"It's the truth."

"No. No, I'm responsible for my own actions. Even that night...Pam, I never should have waited so long to tell you how I felt. I put you in an impossible position."

"I _knew_ , though. I knew how you felt, I was just too scared to face it, to really believe it. And I didn't…"

She paused, not sure she could complete that thought. Was she really ready to tell him this much truth?

"You didn't, what?"

"I didn't think I was good enough for you," she soldiered on. "I thought, if I gave up Roy for you, if I risked everything, you would eventually figure that out, and then I would be left with nothing."

Jim's eyes grew wide.

"Not good enough for _me_? _That's_ what you think?"

Pam's throat blocked, so all she could do was nod with tears in her eyes.

"Pam…" Jim sighed. Then he crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms. "I don't even know what to say to that. You couldn't be more wrong."

Pam buried her face in his chest, and took a long, shuddering breath.

"I'm trying to believe that," she whispered.

"Please do," he said, and she could hear his deep voice rumbling in his chest. "You're everything, Pam. You're _everything_ to me."

They stood like that, arms wrapped around each other, for several long moments. Then Jim cleared his throat.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked. "You know how I feel, I guess. And I understand if you need some time, Pam, I really do. I know you were drunk last night, and I know you're back with Roy. I'm not going to hold you to anything. But will you at least promise me you'll think things over? Consider giving me a chance?"

Pam realized with horror what he was saying. How could she have left him in doubt this long? How had she not yet said the one thing that needed to be said? Would she _ever_ get this right?

She pulled away slightly so she could look up at his face. His eyes were full of love, but also fear and doubt. She berated herself again.

"Jim," she said, her voice firm. "The only time I need is the time it'll take me to go break up with Roy. I don't want him, I want _you_. I love _you_. The only reason I ever even looked at Roy Anderson again is because I was so desperately lonely for you, but I thought I couldn't have you."

Jim's palms came up to cradle her face. He looked deep into her eyes.

"Pam," he whispered. "Are you _sure_?"

She nodded.

"Letting you walk away from me was the biggest regret of my life. I don't plan on doing it again."

With that, she went up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Last chapter. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed!

* * *

A short while later, Jim found himself lying on his couch, tangled up with Pam, who was busy tracing the letters on his t-shirt with one finger while they talked.

He was so happy it almost scared him.

Pam was his. She loved him back. According to her, she had loved him all along. He had been right about her and Roy, and there had never been any misinterpreted signals.

He couldn't believe it.

For almost a year now he had been walking around with what felt like a heavy stone in his chest. A constant ache that, although he had moments of happiness and contentment, never completely went away. Now that stone had been lifted, and he was sure that if Pam wasn't holding on to him, he could have floated right up to the ceiling.

He knew at some point he had some negative things to focus on. For one, he was still feeling awful about cheating on Karen, and everything he had put her through during the course of their relationship. He was dreading going back to work on Monday and facing her. And there was also a current of unease around the situation with Roy...at some point he was going to have to let go of Pam and send her back to him one last time to end things. What if she was more unsure than she was telling him, and Roy was able to talk her out of it? Or what if, god forbid, Roy got angry and hurt her in some way?

He shook it off. Now was not the time. Now was the time for cuddling, and talking, and just...pure bliss.

"I'm surprised I'm not more hungover," Pam was saying.

Jim laughed.

"It's because you puked up all the alcohol in the middle of the night, Beesly!"

Pam groaned.

"Oh, my god, don't remind me! I still can't believe I let you see me like that."

"Oh, come on..it wasn't that bad. At least you made it to the toilet. Besides, I love taking care of you."

 _In sickness and in health, for better or for worse…_

The words ran through his head, but he wasn't stupid enough to say them out loud, of course.

"Well, you're good at it," she said. "Those Tylenol were a wonderful idea. How are _you_ feeling?"

 _Ecstatic. Euphoric. Insanely in love…_

"Okay, pretty much. I guess I do feel a little...off, but no massive headache or anything."

The truth was that he could really do with a tall glass of water right then, but that would mean displacing Pam and getting up off the couch. Wasn't going to happen.

"I haven't been that drunk in…" she paused, thinking. "Nope, I've never been that drunk in my entire life."

Jim laughed again.

"Me neither," he said. "Was definitely a record night for me, too. Do you even remember how many shots we ended up doing?"

"Way too many, that's all I know."

"And what happened to our friends? I vaguely remember Allan saying goodnight..but the rest is a blur. Did Steve and Christi leave together?"

"I have no idea. I don't remember. Honestly, I can't believe they all just left us there in the state we were in."

"Well, they were probably all three sheets to the wind, too...not sure anybody was using their best judgement last night," he said, then, "Do you remember anything at all?"

He was a little surprised when she buried her face into his chest, like she was embarrassed.

"I remember enough," she said, her voice muffled. A pause, then, "Do _you_ remember anything?"

 _Pink skin. Soft sighs. His name on her lips..._

"Yeah," he said, his voice gruff. "I remember."

They were both silent, the air between them filled with a tension that hadn't been there even a moment before. There was a part of Jim that was just seconds away from scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back to his bed, where they could spend the whole afternoon…

But, no.

No, he reflected with a tinge of regret. As wonderful as it was, last night had been a mistake. Things between them should not have started they way they had, with alcohol and cheating and deception. He couldn't regret that it had happened, since it had led them to the truth, finally, but from now on he wanted to do things the right way.

"Pam?" he said. "Can I take you out tonight?"

Her head popped up to look at him.

"Out?"

"Yeah, out. Like on a date. Dinner and a movie, maybe?"

She grinned.

"Yeah, I'd love that," she said.

"Good," he smiled back. "I want to woo you properly, like you deserve."

"Oh, there's going to be wooing? I'm all of a flutter!"

"Lots of wooing, Beesly. Tons. Expect flowers, and candlelight, and maybe even a goodnight kiss," he said, watching carefully for her reaction.

Her smile grew soft, and her eyes glowed.

"That sounds perfect," she said, and he knew she understood him.

They would take it slow from now on, and build their relationship correctly. After all, they had all the time in the world. There was no rush.

"Oh, my gosh, though!" Pam said, pushing herself up to a sitting position. "That means we need to get moving!"

"What, why?" Jim protested. "It's not even one o'clock yet."

"I know," she said. "But we still have to go get our cars, and I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I want to get some breakfast. And then I have to go talk to Roy. And I want to have plenty of time to make myself look pretty for our date."

"Pam," Jim said, trying to pull her back down. "You're already beautiful. You could go just like this and I would be perfectly happy."

She just rolled her eyes.

"Please, Jim. I'm wearing a ratty old t-shirt and boxer shorts. I'm sure my makeup is smudged and running all over, and I don't even want to think about what my hair is probably doing…"

"You're beautiful," he said again, interrupting her. "Completely gorgeous." He pulled her down for a kiss to emphasize his words. This girl really needed to get used to taking compliments...

Pam gave in momentarily, but then she pulled away again.

"Come on, Halpert," she said. "Let's get going."

She stood and offered him her hand. He groaned, but then finally acquiesced and stood up next to her.

"So," he said. "Does it count as a walk of shame if we do it together?"

* * *

About five hours later, Jim was sitting in his car outside Pam's apartment, trying to work up the nerve to go up to the door and knock. It had only been a short while since he had left her in front of the Albright's house, where she had driven him to pick up his car after they had retrieved her own from the parking lot of Poor Richard's (after finding the key in the wheel well where Billie had hidden it to prevent Pam from driving the night before) and eaten a quick breakfast at the diner next to the bar.

It was only a short time, but a lot had happened in the interim. Jim knew Pam was heading straight to Roy's after she left him, and that fact had left him in a tizzy of fear and anxiety. He refused to act the part of the jealous, overprotective boyfriend, so he had not allowed himself to ask her to call him the moment her conversation with Roy was over. But it had taken all his strength...every moment he knew she was with him was torture.

When Pam had finally checked her phone earlier that afternoon, she discovered that Roy had been texting her all night and all morning, getting progressively angrier and angrier as she had failed to answer. But Pam had assured Jim that no matter how angry Roy ever got, he had never laid a hand on her. And didn't she deserve Roy's anger after what she had done?

That did not make Jim feel better.

And so now he sat here, terrified of what he might find when Pam opened her door. Had Roy hurt her, or scared her? Would Jim see the traces of tears on her face, would the aura of happiness that had surrounded her earlier be gone?

And what if...what if Roy had _not_ been angry? What if had been sweet to her, what if he had cajoled her back into his arms?

Jim couldn't bear the thought of either scenario.

 _This is crazy,_ he told himself. _She loves you. She told you that. Why can't you just believe it?_

He wanted to believe it. Desperately wanted to believe it. But so many times in the past he had allowed himself to believe, only to have it all thrown back in his face in the most painful way imaginable. He supposed he was just gun-shy.

 _This is ridiculous._

If he stalled any longer, he was going to be late, and that would be completely unacceptable. He grabbed the daisies sitting on the seat beside him and forced himself out of the car and up the pathway to her door. Gathering all his courage, he lifted his hand to knock.

The door flew open, and almost immediately all of his worries lifted away. Pam was standing there, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She wore a cute little short-sleeved pink sweater and dark grey skirt, and her hair was carefully curled and styled. The best part, though, was the beaming smile on her face, her obvious joy at seeing him.

"Hi," he said, but it was the only greeting he was able to get out before she had thrown herself into his arms and greeted him with a loving kiss.

"Hi," she giggled, finally.

"Pamela Beesly," he chided her teasingly, not letting her go. "I thought we had only agreed there would be a goodnight kiss. We never said anything about kisses before the end of the evening, you know."

"Well, you brought me daisies. They're my favorite, which you obviously know, and I thought that earned you a hello kiss in addition to our previously agreed upon contract."

"Well," Jim pretended to think it over. "Guess I can't argue with that, can I?"

"Nope," she smiled up at him.

"I concede the position, then. Kissing throughout the date will be acceptable as long as it's as a reward for…"

He never got to finish the thought, as Pam interrupted him with another kiss.

* * *

He asked her about Roy in the car on the way to the restaurant.

"It went as well as could be expected, I guess," she shrugged. "He was still really angry when I first got there, but once I told him it was over, he just kind of deflated. I think we'd both known it was coming...I've changed too much since we were together before. Things were never right between us the first time, and it was even worse on this second go. He knew it was just a matter of time, so he accepted it without too much of a fight."

Jim let out a sigh of relief. He reached over and grabbed her hand.

"I'm assuming you didn't tell him…?"

"About you? Or about last night?"

"Either. Both."

"No to both. He'll find out about you soon enough, I guess, and he'll be mad enough. But I don't see any reason for him to ever know what happened last night. What purpose would it serve? It might ease my guilt a little, but for him it would do nothing but cause more pain. And it might put you in danger. Since it's over between us anyway I didn't see the point."

Jim nodded.

"Yeah. I decided the same thing about Karen."

Pam squeezed his hand.

"Do you think," she asked, "maybe we should try to keep this quiet for awhile? For Roy and Karen, of course, but also because of the cameras and everything?"

"Oh, god. Michael!" Jim groaned. "Can you imagine what his reaction is going to be?"

Horrible visions of doves and confetti and paper hearts floated through his brain. Michael, wearing a diaper and asking to borrow Dwight's crossbow so he could act the part of cupid...

"Exactly," Pam said. "So let's keep it a secret. For now, at least."

"Agreed," said Jim.

* * *

Jim had chosen one of the newer restaurants in town, a romantic little Italian place with plenty of candlelight and ambiance, perfect for wooing. And most importantly, a place he had never taken Karen.

After the hostess showed them to their table, Pam smiled at Jim.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Jim," she said. "I've been dying to try this place for ages."

"You're welcome," he said, pleased that this was her first time here, too. Maybe it could become "their place" for anniversary dinners and the like. Assuming the food was any good, that was...

Their server approached.

"Good evening," he said in what Jim suspected was a fake Italian accent. "Welcome to Bocca Felice. May I start either of you off with a glass of wine, or perhaps a Bellini cocktail?"

Jim just looked at Pam, and she stared wide, amused eyes.

"Just water, thanks."

* * *

The End.

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